I want to be an ambulance siren but am a closed mouth. I feel things move inside like pine needles and beetles or maybe marbles. Last night I tried to sleepwalk but wet the bed. Tears only dry by morning.

I grade listening by your snoring. I can count even up to a hundred while I wait. The sun gathers on my pajamas and thickens.

The sun is passing but not through me, I am transparent. When I unlock the door there is no echo in hallway C. Bolts turn beneath your hearing.

I will try to unlearn dust. I will begin by being clean. Snap shades, startle pigeons. Banish the scratchy sound playing over and over in my head. I can make believe.